Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,54

is both armed and trained.”

“No one can watch his or her own back,” Jean said softly.

“That’s why we’re taking every precaution,” Stacey assured her.

The door to the conference room opened, and Jackson Crow joined them.

“We got a report from the gated community where Cindy Hardy is living,” he told them. “She lied. Video showed her leaving the night Billie Bingham was killed.”

“Possible victim—or possible murderer?” Stacey wondered.

“Should Jean and I take a run on her this time? We can ask if she wants protection,” Fred suggested.

“Mixing it up might be a good thing,” Keenan said, addressing Jackson. “Stacey and I plan on a meeting with the good congressman again—at his home.”

“You might want to hurry,” Jackson told him. “According to some congressional sources friendly to law enforcement, Smith is planning a trip back home. Due to leave tomorrow morning. You’ll need to catch him this evening.”

“We’ll report to our forces, state and local, to keep up the vigilance,” Jean said. “And we’ll be back here eight sharp tomorrow, unless we hear otherwise.”

“Great. See you at the task-force meeting tomorrow morning,” Jackson said. “For now, go. Get on it.”

He stopped Keenan and Stacey as they started to follow Fred and Jean out.

“Stacey, I know you don’t want to be coddled. But that piece of kidney did come to you. Not only are you yourself at risk, but our chance to solve this could be in jeopardy if we’re not careful.”

“We’re good,” Stacey said. She grinned at him. “We have a plan, and Keenan is spending the night at my place.”

Jackson arched a brow to Keenan. He didn’t seem to be skeptically questioning them, but rather, he appeared amused and pleased.

“She’s dreaming it—dreaming the final scene,” Keenan said. “The last murder, the next in whatever is happening here.”

Jackson looked at Stacey with a worried frown.

“Just—the beginning?” Jackson asked her.

Stacey knew that Adam had fully briefed Jackson on her background. “Just the beginning,” she said.

He looked at Keenan again. “You can handle this?”

“He’s great at—handling me. My dreams, nightmares, I mean. He didn’t jerk me up or out, but he was there, ready to help. I...wasn’t expecting to fall asleep when I did, and Keenan was able to deal with me, step by step. I wasn’t taken out of it—and yet I didn’t go through the terror of being alone. I don’t really know how to explain. But it worked.”

Jackson was smiling. “Glad to hear it. This could be the real key. Keep dreaming, Stacey, and keep our dreamer safe, Keenan, as she dreams.”

“Will do,” he promised. He looked at Stacey. She was smiling at him.

He looked back at Jackson, nodding in an acknowledgment.

“Jackson, you couldn’t have given me a better partner,” he said quietly. “Stacey, shall we?”

They made it out at last.

In the car, she turned to him, and said, “Thank you!”

“For?”

“The acknowledgment.”

He didn’t glance her way. He just nodded.

She laughed. “You must really have bitched about me at the beginning!”

He shrugged. “Maybe. You’re still a rookie.”

“But a rookie with great nightmares.”

“A rookie with great nightmares,” he agreed. He glanced her way. “In fact, I just can’t wait until bedtime.”

He half expected her to hop on his teasing. She didn’t. She looked straight ahead. “I know. I’m just hoping, praying...”

“Yes?”

She turned to look at him again as he drove. “That I can see more. Get an idea of where the room is—where he’s planning to do it.”

She fell silent, appearing worried and deep in thought.

Eventually she said, “I don’t know how it works. When my dad was in danger, there were nights when there was nothing. Then, the dream would come again. And later, it was the same. I don’t think... I just don’t think that we’re going to have much time.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand, surprising himself.

“I think you’ll see it,” he said.

“I must see it.”

“Before it can happen,” he said.

She allowed the touch to continue, almost as if it was reassuring. Good.

“Before it can happen,” she agreed.

They drove in silence.

* * *

There were times when Stacey felt the reality that she was a rookie—and that it was good to be with an experienced agent.

“What do we do if he won’t let us in?” she asked as they neared the congressman’s house.

“Well, if we’re lucky, their housekeeper will open the door. When they do, we gently but persistently make our way in. Then, we’re in before they can get Colin Smith and he can throw us out,” Keenan told her.

“He might yell ‘Who is it?’ and warn them not

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